


Beyond the Static Curtain

by horsesandrobotsandtimelordsohmy (orphan_account)



Series: Instead of School or Sleep - This Is What I Do [4]
Category: Ego Central - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye - Fandom
Genre: Anti’s probably going to hunt me down for this, Eventual Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I guess it’s kind of an au maybe???, Knives, Protector!Anti, Running on no sleep, Very much a headcanon, Wounds, almost death of a character, anti is nice in this one, but first lots of hurt, headcanon on anti’s origins, magical healing properties, very very ooc anti
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/horsesandrobotsandtimelordsohmy
Summary: He lurks around the corners, infects your computer, commands your subconscious and sometimes terrifyingly your conscious.His name is Anti, and he’s aglitch.But does anyone ever wonder what turned him into a glitch?





	1. Who be dis?

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve had this floating around in my head for a while now, and I finally got the time (at 12 am :) to post it. BUT! only half. Hopefully I’ll get the other part out tomorrow. No promises though. 
> 
> *skips into the distance singing* requests are still open and I’m terrible at cliffhangers! 
> 
> Happy reading!

With a burst of soft green light, the brand-new ego was thrust into the building that would someday become known as Ego Central. After stumbling a few feet and regaining his balance, he looked up and around, taking stock of his surroundings. The building was single story, with what appeared to be a living room, kitchen, and a hallway that the ego could only hope led to a bedroom and bathroom. Being created was probably the hardest thing he had ever done.

Come to think of it, it was the only thing he had ever done. A musical chuckle made its way up his throat, followed by a high-pitched laugh. Oh, wasn’t he the funniest person he had ever met? Then again, he had never met anyone else. This sobered him up and he continued on into the building. As he walked, he ran his fingers over the smoothly painted walls bearing a swirl pastel green and blue paint. The colors were calming and relaxing after the arduous journey of being brought into existence, and he was glad to see that they continued into the single bedroom.

There was a name plaque on the bedroom door, but there was no name. The ego paused, thought for a moment, and smirked. With a snap of his fingers, the name “Adversus” was etched into the bronze plaque. Long but fitting, Adversus thought to himself, seeing as he was the opposite of his creator. Maybe someday he would find a friend who would give him a nickname.

It was then he heard the soft ‘whoosh’ from the kitchen, and he headed there to investigate. Upon arrival, he caught sight of a young woman, blue and green haired with a slender physique rummaging through the cabinets.

“Who’re you?” he questioned, and the girl spun around in surprise but deigned not to answer.

“I said, who’re you?”

She didn’t respond, just studied him for a moment with the expression of someone who has found what they were looking for. He just then noticed her eyes, which were a striking grey monotone, unlike the rest of her vibrant appearance.

His patience quickly fading, he repeated for a third time, “Who are you?”

“Relax. Most people call me Cenny, with a c.” Her voice hit him like a sandbag to the chest. It was deep for a girl’s voice, but soft and gravelly at the same time. His first thought was that her voice did _not_ match her body.

But there was no time to speculate or to react to her introduction as Cenny continued.

”I guess you’re new to the world of figments, huh? Your entrance was pretty loud. Rough trip?”

He nodded.

“I’ll show you around until you know the ropes, but don’t worry. This world, which I call... wait for it... Figmentland, isn’t too big. Yet.”

A second nod followed.

”You got a name, or am I gonna have to give you one?”

With a quick clearing of his throat, Adversus regained something of his confidence that had fled at the sound of her voice and responded. 

“The name’s Adversus.”

”Adversus, huh?“ She paused as if considering something, then spoke again. “Too long. I’m going to call you... Anti! How’s that sound?”

“I guess it’s okay. I’ve never had a name before and now I’ve gotten two in the space of about fifteen minutes, so it’s a lot to take in.”

”Oh, that’s right, you’re new. My bad.”

Startled by her apology, Anti? shrugged and half-grinned. “It’s fine,” he replied, only to be baffled by her next question.

”So who’s figment are you?”

”What!?” He recoiled, offended.

”I said—“

”I know what you said, what did you mean?”

”I was asking who created you. Like, who sent you here?”

”Oh. I was going to say, I don’t belong to anyone. I think my creator’s name is Jack? Or Sean, I’m not sure which.”

”Oh, you must mean Jacksepticeye. Makes sense with the color scheme and all that.” Cenny waved her hand vaguely referencing the walls and furnishings of the building and rooms.

”I think so? Now that you mention it, it does feel like it fits.” He paused, a new thought interrupting his mental process.

”What about you?”

She turned away from him, her face dropping. “I don’t have a creator. Technically speaking, I was brought into existence by this world itself.”

”Then why do you match this building so well?”

Cenny looked back at Anti. “All I am is the physical manifestation of this building. I’ve been by myself for who knows how long, watching and waiting as other buildings got their occupants. Like Ego Incorporated over there.” She pointed out the window at an impressive looking mansion/office building across the road. “The more egos, or figments, you’ve got, the bigger and safer you are. She’s got nine or ten, and her YouTuber is pretty popular. Me, I’ve been empty for going on two and a half years now. I was starting to fade, but then you came along!” Her face perked back up at this, and Anti couldn’t help but instinctively want to protect this girl who was the embodiment of home in a new life.

Anti leaned in conspiratorially, hoping to cheer her up even more. “You know the best part about being a building for Jack’s egos?”

“No, skinny. What is it?”

He winced at the mock insult but continued in a stage whisper, “Jack’s subscriber count is steadily rising, and I’m pretty sure he’s got plans for more figments.”

”And how do you know this, Mr. Smartypants?”

”I’m a figment of my creator! I can see bits and pieces of his thoughts. And even if he doesn’t, all you’ve gotta do is trust me. I’m not leaving anytime soon, so you’ve got at least... an eternity with me!”

Cenny grinned. “Thanks, Anti. That’s _sooo_ comforting.”

But he could see that her spirits, momentarily dampened by the possibility of her fading before he had arrived, had lifted somewhat.

”Now! You promised me a tour?”

”Yeah, but we can do it from this window. I don’t feel like going outside.” Cenny put on her best tour guide voice. 

“Welcome to Figmentland, where the egos of all YouTubers with subscriber counts of over 10 million reside. Across the street you can see the opulent - and ridiculously stuck up - Ego Incorporated, which houses the nine or more egos, or figments, of Markiplier. Visible to our left is the less fancy - but still snooty - Pews Limited, which houses the one and only Infelix, figment of PewDiePie and the only figment to be created entirely by fans. I think.”

She paused, turning towards Anti and embracing him in a sisterly hug. “And to my right is me, or Ego Central, who is home to the best ego in the world, Anti.”

“Welcome home, my friend.”

 


	2. How Our ‘Soft Boi’ Became ‘Angry Boi’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the grand reveal that is *checks* a lot of days late. 
> 
> Anti has to have a tragic backstory. I mean Chase had Stacy, Jameson was corrupted on his birthday, Marvin had trouble getting started, Schneep had his wife, etc. etc. I felt the need to add Anti’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that all the opinions about YouTubers expressed in this story are Anti’s and based on his character. I support starting your own channel and doing your own thing 100%!

Anti paused in his room, pencil in hand. Glancing at his calendar — which he still didn’t understand why Cenny had insisted he have because time was constantly fluctuating in Figmentland — he checked off another day, and then looked at the following day.

_His ‘birthday,’_ for lack of a better term.

Had it really been a year since his creator Séan, or Jack, as he now well knew him, had come up with the idea of an alter ego? Anti was pretty sure it hadn’t been that long, unless time sped by unnaturally quickly, but he was ready to accept the idea of having a ‘birthday’ party. Or at least, what he considered a party. He already had plans, which included taking his sister/home Cenny out to eat at the only restaurant in their neck of the woods. 

Having checked off today on the calendar, Anti strode out of his room, whistling a jaunty tune. As he moved down the hallway, he ran his fingertips along the blue and green walls that had become so familiar to him over the past year. Now adorning the once-blank walls were framed pictures of him and Cenny in various places both in and outside of Figmentland. He paused at one in particular, where Séan and Signe had gone with them to the beach in Brighton. It had been a windy day; so windy, in fact, that Cenny had been blown over and had tumbled down the beach a ways before Anti, sprinting, could catch up with and slow her exit. 

Cenny didn’t like the beach anymore.

Continuing on his way, Anti walked into the kitchen, where he saw a note from his friend that stated, 

    _Hey Ant,_

_I’m headed to the store, give me a call if you need anything. I should be back in about an hour._

_Cenny_

Anti paused, thinking. As independent as he and Cenny were from Séan, for some odd reason they still needed to buy food, especially for himself. Cenny, as the manifestation of his home, had immediately taken up the task, though Anti protested.

Snapping back to the present, Anti thought for a moment more; then, having decided there was nothing he particularly wanted at the moment, he continued on his original path. 

He was going for a walk. A long walk. One to think, mostly about his plans for the morrow but also to plan for a way to say thank you to Jack for _creating him._  

* * *

An hour, hour and a half later, he returned home. Or at least, he was on his way home, when he passed the exact alley in which he had first met Infelix - who turned out to be a pretty awesome ego, despite his reputation - and heard the sounds of what seemed like a rather intense fight. Arguments that turned physical between lesser egos of lesser YouTubers were common, but what struck rage and terror into his heart was the sound of Cenny’s voice shouting, “Please, I don’t have any money!” and as he peered around the corner, he saw his only friend attempting to crawl away from a shadowy figure with a knife. The figure had no definite form, but instead seemed to be a shell of a human, with smoke roiling inside, as he?she?it? raised the weapon to strike at a cringing Cenny.

Without a second thought he dove at the figure, screaming both Gaelic and English curses, and as the wave of anger grew, he suddenly remembered Cenny, still struggling to get away. His actions had caused the shadowy figure to grab at her ankle, but before it could do anything to her he snatched at the knife, fingers desperately grasping and face scrunched up in terror for Cenny and anger that something this lowly would even dream of hurting his best friend. 

With an grunt from the two on the ground, and a squeak of fear from a free Cenny, they tussled fiercely, grappling for control of the knife. Anti was mindlessly fighting to protect Cenny, his main goal to gettheknifegettheknife _gettheknife_ **gettheknife** before the breath was driven from his lungs as the figure managed to regain its hold on the knife and drive it deep into his chest. The shock only lasted a moment, his brain freezing, but it was enough for the shadow to disentangle itself and bolt from the scene. 

 

 

**_Breathe._ **

**_In..._ **

**_Out..._ **

**_Open your eyes._ **

 

 

Anti’s vision was sharp. Every angle and detail stood out in perfection as time stood still. It was his hearing that was hazy, and he thought he could hear a voice calling out. 

**“Anti! Anti?! Please wake up!”**

He looked up, then to the right, then the left, looking for the source of the voice, and saw a weeping Cenny. He sat up with a gasp of effort, wondering why she was crying, and then another cut-off wheeze was forced from his body. Looking down, he saw blood, but not that much, covering the left side of his chest. Then it hit him, both mentally and physically. The realization that he had been _effing stabbed_ was followed immediately by the pain, radiating in waves from the epicenter of the wound. 

He curled inward, breathing heavily. “Ce—Cenny.”

Her head whipped up, and she breathed a sigh of relief. However, when her eyes turned towards the gash they widened, and she nearly shouted, “Anti! You’re bleeding!”

”Ye͟—Ye͟a̢h. D’you t͠h̶in҉k̷ you co͜u͟l̸̵͡d̶ ͘get Iplier?” As much as he didn’t care for the pessimistic doctor, Anti was painfully aware that the ego was the only licensed doctor in Figmentland, and doubly painfully aware that there was no hospital. 

“Yeah yeah I’ll get him you stay here okay?!”

”‘M̴m̛p̢f̀.̡” Despite the pain, Anti gave her a wry grin. “̴I͏’̕ḿ ͟n͜ot g̕o̡in͢g an͠y͠wh͠e̕r̕e̸, sis̵.͠”̸

She dashed off, her footsteps quickly fading on the pavement. Anti tried to hoist himself into a sitting position but gave up after the movement nearly left him paralyzed with pain. His thoughts turned, with increasing anger, towards the _thing_ that had stabbed him. No doubt, he told himself, it was a creation of a fledgling YouTuber with delusions of grandeur. That was the last thing he needed, provided he made it out of this alive. 

Come to think of it, when he had been created, Jack was a newly fledged YouTuber. How dare he think he could create life! How dare this loud, annoying Irishman try to play creator?!

A gentle buzzing noise interrupted his internal rant, and he looked for the source of it, which happened to be his own chest. Where the knife had cut him, his skin was doing something that could only be described as _glitching_ open and closed, slowly beginning to glitch closed more than open. Before his wide-open eyes, his body brought itself back to full health. 

He lay there in surprise for a moment, then slowly got up. Glancing around, he saw the knife, still wet with his blood. He picked it up, wiping it off on the edge of his torn shirt. The edge of a large scar caught his attention and he looked down to see that while his body had healed itself, the process left him with a massive reminder.

* * *

 

The incident only served to drive him and Cenny closer together. She was, as she put it, “eternally grateful,” and he felt the need to protect her even more. Even as other Septic egos - Marvin, Jackieboy, Robbie, and more - joined them, and the building expanded to house them all, Anti remained as a brother to Cenny and Cenny a sister to the glitch.

His voice, which had started glitching when he discovered his body could knit itself back together, never returned to its normal, lilting Irish tone. And for that he was greatful. The less he sounded like the man that had had the audacity to think he could create life, the better. 

His mind never went back to normal either. Fueled by rage and personal hurt, especially that from the idea that he had been created by a mere man with a few subscribers, Anti went on to become the embodiment of all Jack’s most negative qualities. He fed on the fear of the fans, grew in power as they grew in terror, and held court in Jack’s subconscious. He ruled with an iron fist, his symbol the dripping knife which had brought him to the edge of death but also brought him to a new realization. 

He was a _glitch._

_An error in the software._

_Not created but self-existing._

_**And anyone who tried to fix him...** _

_**Well...** _

__

_**Ȩv̀e͢͠r͢͡y̸̵͠one͜͡ ͟k̸̀͘ne̡w̷͜ ̀͠w̧h͢a̢t ̸͟ha̵p͘p҉͏e͢͏n͘͢ed̨ ̵n̷͜͏é̷͞x҉҉̸t͝.͟.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a child, whenever I was playing dolls or horses or whatnot, where I was in control of the situation (that’s not dictatorial at all), the phrase “going for a walk” always meant something important was going to happen, whether it was finding a puppy or having a foal (horses). 
> 
> Apparently I was incapable of coming up with another reason for my toys to be leaving the current setting.


End file.
